March 10, 2010
We’d often commented on the red-haired waitress at the Big Boy. She had a squeaky voice and violent blue eyes. She was just so cute. That was what we always said. So cute. Take her home. That would be the thing. But no, I thought. She would slam her door and sulk and would want her own car. She would not like being removed from her friends. I suspected that, away from here, she would begin to be less cute. She would bring home strange boys. She would want a large dog. Best to leave her in her natural habitat.